Twisted Love
by Des Iries
Summary: One wishes to die , the other wishes to live. A young woman is thrown back in the body of Christine Daae. There she gets to live out her fantasy. But the ‘fantasy’ is very much real. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello!! Long time. But finally I'm back. This is a teaser chapter. There will be more though. Also I'm looking for a beta. If anyone is interested let me know. **

11:30 p.m. New York 2008

Krystyn Dey yawned and took off her thick glasses and rubbed her brown eyes. Replacing them she glanced at the tiny clock.

11:30.

She had been cleaning the Phantom's costume for hours now. Hanging up the black suit and embroidered cape, she picked up her hand bag and waved goodbye the costume. "See you tomorrow," she then turned the light out and closed the door. She shifted the canvas bag and walked to the back of the stage.

The lights were turned off and the large backstage had a creepy look. But it never bothered her. She had stayed late before and there was no one in all of the building. She sighed and unlocked the door that led to the parking lot. The snow was blowing hard when she walked to the car. Quickly unlocking the door she slid in and turned up the heat. She glanced into the mirror and frowned. She had short brown hair that was messed up and always had an oily sheen. Her dull brown eyes had shadows under them. Her thick glasses had slipped down to the end of her large nose. She stuck her tongue out at herself and pushed them back up. Krystyn turned from her reflection and started her car and pulled out from the parking lot and unto the highway. Krystyn shivered. The heat from her car heater was providing only minimum warmth. Snow began to beat at the tiny car with such force that had Krystyn biting her lip in worry. It was becoming more and more difficult to see the road in front of her.

Her heart begin to race. She knew her car would not last much longer the way it was being slammed around on the empty highway. It began to slow and putter she looked for an exit or other cars. No such luck.

"Fuck…" the foul word slipped out as the car stopped and died completely she sat in her seat for a minute before she undid her seat belt. She would have to get out of the car to flag someone down or try to push the small car to the side and sit and wait.

Just as she undid it though, the tiny car was filled with a bright light as a huge truck came blaring at her, it's shrill horn blowing. It rammed the back of the car and her head snapped forward and hit the steering wheel hard. Her head snapped then back and she felt a red hot pain as she heard a snap. Her last thought was…_I don't want to die…_

&

11:30 p.m. Paris, France

Christine Daae beat her tiny fist on the locked door as tears streamed down her face. She turned away with a sob. She knew that he could hear her, but choose not to. She collapse to the floor not caring if the lovely wedding dress was ruined. Christine bawled as the reality of the situation sank in. he was going t6o force her to marry him. _that…that…monster! Oh Rauol…if only I had left with you that night! _

She looked around a saw a painting of a young woman reaching up toward some angels. It gave her an idea. She held tight to the black rosary that she always carried. She bowed her head and began to pray. "Dear Lord, please forgive me for this sin, but I can't be wed to such a monster. Amen." she kissed the crucifix and stood, looking around the room for anything sharp. But Erik seemed to have removed all sharp items. Tears ran down her salty cheeks again as she threw herself on the bed. It wasn't to be like this! She and Raoul was supposed to live happily ever after.

Another thought came to mind as she stared at the rock wall. Like a zombie she rose and fell to her knees in front of it. She drew her head back and slammed it into the wall. She let out a gagging sound as the pain flared. Again she drew her head back and brought it to the wall. The pain then faded into a dull ache. And again she smashed her head against to wall. She felt something warm and sticky run down her face. She reached up and touched her forehead. Pulling her fingers away she saw that they were covered in blood. Her vision then began to fade. She collapse and her last thought was…_I want to die…_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I know the deadly sin of having a Mary Sue as your main character, but work with me here. She is **_**NOT**_** a Mary Sue. Right I know she seems one, that will change once she gets her ass together. I mean, you try banging your head against a stonewall and let's see how aware and normal you are.**

**Chapter 2**

12:30 a.m.

Krystyn moaned and opened her eyes but closed them fast. The dim light was too bright. The pain sliced through her head. As she came out of her haze, she became aware of something soft and wet running tenderly across her face. Again, she opened her eyes and found herself staring up not into the kind face of a doctor but the face a masked man. Behind the white mask, yellow eyes flashed several different emotions, relief, concern, anger and… love?

"Well, you are very incapable at killing yourself, aren't you? All you have done was ruin your dress and give yourself headache." A smooth voice mocked her.

"Ki-kill myself? Dress? No. A truck… hit me…"

Krystyn tried to get out. She felt ill and it was hard to talk and concentrate.

"You stupid child. You have clubbed yourself senseless….but then you didn't have much sense… did you?" The man said rather cruelly.

Krystyn felt rather insulted and was really to lay in to him, but as she sat up dizziness overtook her. She felt herself turn green and as she felt bile rise, she noticed that the man had shoved a bowl under her face. She swallowed hard and shoved the bowl back at him. She would have been amused that his eyes flashed surprise, but she was still blurry eyed. She pushed him away and stood. She tried to walk but something tripped her up. She fell rather ungracefully and that was when she realized that she was indeed wearing a dress. A wedding dress. Krystyn sat up and blinked her eyes a few times. She then looked up at the man. Her vision was still blurry so all she saw was a tall black figure. She wrinkled her brow and shook her head. "What happened? Why am I wearing this?"

The man strode over to her and picked her up with ease. Krystyn let out a gasp. She knew she wasn't the lightest thing, being slightly overweight. But he picked her up as if she weighted only ninety pounds. He placed her back on the couch. He just barely brushed her forehead with his cold thumb. "You don't remember?"

Krystyn shook her head. "All I remember is that…" she took one look at him and flashed back. _The Phantom of the Opera. _She smiled a little. She remembered. A truck had hit her pathetic excuse of a car; she was now in a hospital and asleep. This was her dream world, her fantasy. She could 'fix' everything "Only a little."

She knew he was fighting an internal battle. Hope and dismay passed over his eyes. "Chris-" he was interrupted by a bell. Krystyn jumped then slightly cursed. She remembered now what would happen. The pretty-boy Raoul, and if this was the book version, Nadir would show up.

She sure didn't want Raoul, but didn't want … Krystyn tried to think of his name. Her head was hurting bad, but the name came through.

Erik.

She didn't want him to kill the boy. Yes, she enjoyed those late night gore movies, but really didn't want to have a blood-spatter dream.

A change came over Erik. He stood up straighter and his persona became n menacing. "Well, now. It seems we have visitors. Wait here and we'll greet them shortly." He walked to a wall that had a black curtain on it and drew it aside. Krystyn gasped at the sight. Her vision was clearing up which was odd because her sight was always blurry. Her hands went up to her face but felt no glasses, she then past it off as having no need of them in her dream, though a small thought irked her.

She focused on the two people behind the glass. One was taller then the other and had shoulder length blonde hair that was partially in a ponytail. His blue eyes darted back and forth. Right away Krystyn knew that this was the Vicomte de Changy. He was indeed handsome, but so much it made him look unreal, though he was sweaty and his loose shirt was torn. He stood in the middle of the room and seemed to be studying the room he was in. The other man was older and darker. Nadir.

She didn't want any harm to them, but she had no idea how to let Erik to let them go. "Erik?" she whispered quietly.

Erik turned his gold eyes toward her. His stature and eye were hard. "Yes?"

Krystyn swallowed hard. "Let them go."

Erik stared down at her in silence.

Krystyn knew this would be the hardest part. But she was feeling better and this was _her_ dream and she'll show the backbone that the little girl hadn't. She walked up closer and without hesitation she placed a hand on his overlarge hand. "Let them go and I'll stay. No regrets, no childish sacrifices. I'll stay they go."

Erik took a deep breath and stared down in her childish face. It was the same but her eyes seemed older, darker. Was it possible that she had grown up in the space of an hour? He let out a soft sigh. He pressed a panel and the glass wall slid open.

Raoul rushed out and swept Krystyn up in his arms. She stiffened. She didn't know this man and him hugging her tightly had her almost panic.

"Oh Christine! Are you all right? Did that monster hurt you?" he turned to glare at Erik.

It took all of the restraint for Krystyn not to slug him. "I'm fine."

"Vicomte. Take the boat and take her. She knows the way to the shore." Erik said shaky then turned away.

Raoul took Krystyn by the arm and began to pull her to the door. Krystyn allowed him to then stopped with his already half out the door. "Raoul, this is were I say hello and good-bye. Trust me when is say I'll be alright. Don't come back. Forget me. You did win, but me going back with you is not an option. I'm staying. Get that look out of your face. I'm just a nobody. Marry a lady 'cause I'm not one. Forget me, forget everything that happened here." She then pushed him the rest of the way out of the door and closed it.

Krystyn leaded against the door trying to breath. She felt hot and uncomfortable. She knew that it was the dress. The tight corset was slowly crushing her ribs. She watched as Erik turned and stagger a little as he saw her leaning against the door. "Christine? What are you doing here? You are supposed to leave with him. Why are you still here-" he was cut off when Krystyn took a deep breath and fell to her knees.

She took another deep breath and stood slowly back up. She was aware that Erik was in front of her and hand his hand out. She took it and looked up into his gold eyes. "I do not want to go with him. I told you… I'm staying with you. But now I'm very tired." And she was. She knew she looked as tired as she felt.

He nodded "Of course. You have had a long day." He led her to a room.

She walked in and turned to face him. "Erik… promise me that I won't wake up and find that you have taken me upstairs and dumped me off and Raoul's"

Erik blinked at her word usage but nodded. "I promise."

Krystyn smiled then leaned up and kissed his masked cheek. "Good night Erik."

"Good night Christine." he then closed the door.

Krystyn looked around the room. It had smooth stonewalls and was very cozy. There was a vanity table without a mirror against the wall with bushes and combs and perfumes. On the wall across from it was a wardrobe. She opened it and looked thought the beautiful dresses and after and hour of struggling out of the dress she was able to pull the silk gown on.

Krystyn stretched out on the bed and sighed. Before she fell asleep she looked over at the far all and noticed some blood on the lower part. She shook her head and pasted it off as part of her strange dream. She wished that there was to be more time to be spent with Erik, but most likely she'll wake up in her old life. Closing her heavy eyes she fell into a deep slumber.


	3. Chapter 3

**Did I put a disclaimer? Hello? Any one? Ah well, if I didn't then here it is….**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Phantom of the Opera. **

**Chapter 3**

Krystyn's internal clock told her that it was 6:oo in the morning. She rolled out of bed and yawned. Stretching, she grabbed up a robe and stumbled half asleep to the door. Not noticing where she was, she walked through the house and into the kitchen and went to the small counter to turn on the coffee pot on when her hand ran into the wall. Her eyes flew open and looked around the room. It was simple. Hardly even could be called a kitchen, it had an icebox and a small wooden sink and a coal stove. It was more of a kitchenette.

Something felt extremely wrong.

Not thinking she ran out of the room and right into a very hard body. Hands clamped over own to keep her from falling down. She lifted her eyes and stared up into the eyes of the same masked man from last night.

"Christine, what is wrong?" His melodious voice asked.

It was then she realized that he had pronounced her name Chris-tine, not Cry-sten. In her 'Phantom' dreams she was always called Krystyn. Plus the embarrassing fact that they usually...consummated.

She cleared her throat and pushed that thought away. And then also the fact that she was still in her dream worried her. she looked back up. He was still starting intently at her. Her eyes was clearly focused but she didn't remember putting glasses on. Her hands went to her face and the fact that her glasses was missing almost confirmed what her mind didn't want to confirm. "Mirror," Came the whisper. "Do you have a mirror? Please?"

Erik's eyes went hard and he almost refused, but instead let her go and motioned her to follow him. Erik led her though the house to his bedroom. The only mirror in the house was in there and normally he kept it covered but last night in his anger and deadly calmness had pulled it off and he hadn't bothered to cover it back up. "The mirror is in there. If you do not mind.. I will wait out here."

Krystyn tumbled inside and looked around. At the center of the room an ornate black coffin sat upon a dais. It was shrouded in black curtains and lit by tall back mourning candles. That inside was lined with red silk. Krystyn trembled violently as she edged closer. Finally she pulled her eyes away and looked around again. She finally spotted an mirror by a wardrobe. She walked over and peered into it. Her jaw opened as she stared at the young girl in the mirror.

The mirror showed that she had shrunken. Instead of her old frame of 5'6'' and plump build, it showed that she has shrunk down to about 5'3'' and her shape went petite. Instead of her short brown hair and dull brown eyes and rather big nose, she now had prominent cheekbones with an small pert nose. Also now had thick eyelashes that curled against alabaster skin. Her hair appeared to be extremely soft and fell down to the small of her back. It was now a soft gold. She gawked at herself and then happened to glace behind her in the mirror and saw a magnificent organ. She spun around and saw that it covered the entire wall behind her. She rushed forward and saw laying in the seat a score she choked a bit when she saw the title.

_DON JUAN TRIUMPHAT_.

She back out of the room and into something. She spun around and peered up into Erik's gold eyes. They stood there for the longest while. She watched as a change came into his eyes. They narrowed and faster then she could blink, she was shoved against the wall. She stifle a yelp.

"Who are you. And where is Christine Daae?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own Phantom of the Opera**

**Chapter 4**

She looked deep into his eyes and knew that he would take no nonsense. She had no idea how to explain this. She was a costume designer not a scientist. In fact, she didn't even have time to think herself. As her mind raced he tightened his grip on her throat. It wasn't enough to choke or hurt her, but it _was_ a warning. Finally she had enough. She shoved back against him forgetting she was younger and smaller now. He took the hint and let her go.

"I will repeat. Who are you and where is Miss Daae?" His voice had deepened and there was a tone of fear in it though it didn't show in his eyes.

"Well, for one thing I know you wouldn't believe me." she snapped. She crossed her arms and glared up at him.

"I'll tell you what I see. I see and hear Christine. You have her voice and her face. But the eyes are not hers. Same color but deeper, older. How this can come to happen I don't know. Who are you and were did you come from?" he watched her with the unnerving glint in his eyes.

Krystyn took a deep breath and got herself together. "My name is Krystyn Dey. I am 25, live in New York. Am a costume designer and I also do make-up. I was leaving late from work and got trapped in my car in a snowstorm. A truck slammed into the back of my car and I guess I got knocked out. I woke up here."

The look he gave her… if looks could kill she would be dead. She just stood there and glared right back. "I didn't say that it'd sound sane. Why would I lie? What point would there be? You could very easily kill me….ether why if I lied what would it gain? You'd believe what you what to believe. But," she poked him in the chest, "you tell me, how can I be telling anything else but the truth?"

Erik caught her hand from poking him again. "You just very well be telling the truth. It may not be possible but I have seen stranger things in my life."

Krystyn let out a sigh. The tension eased slightly or at least until she looked back at Erik. Then it became so thick that she could barely breath. "What?"

"You do know that you are to stay here until I can figure out how to get Christine back." he trailed off leaving Krystyn in shock.

Her shoulders dropped. _Then again what do you expect_? She thought. _Of course he would want her back. It's __**Christine**__. _That that thought came in a snarl. She felt a slight breeze and looked back to were Erik had been. He was gone. Big surprise. She turned on her heel and walked back to the bedroom that she had woken up in. She went back to the wardrobe and grimaced as she pulled out a ginger colored dress. Being a costume designer she knew all about period clothes. But…as she looked at all the petticoats and the tiny corset, she knew she wasn't going to kill herself by stuffing herself in the unnecessary clothes. She pulled the dress on, though she didn't bother with the corset. She knew that it also served as a bra, but she still wasn't going to wear it. The girl's body was young and small enough on top to go without the thing. She found out that she still had to put at least one petticoat on for the dress was too long without it. She grabbed up a brush and ripped it though the gold hair, used to her own coarse oily hair.

When she was finished she sat down on the bed and plopped her head into her hands. _What the hell am I going to do? I loved the Phantom of the Opera. But I knew even then it was not the man but the story. What am I going to do? Do I have to wait until the little girl changes her mind and come back, pushing me out and back into my own? Or what if she never comes back? What if I'm suck here with Mr. Bipolar? _That finale thought had her shuttering. It wasn't that she hated him. It was the opposite. But loving the fictional man and the real man was totally different. And she didn't now how long before her free minded ideas and sarcastic mouth ran away with her.

She lifted her head. There it was again. She got up and walked out of the room. _Bang_. She walked uneasily over to the room that it was coming from. It was Erik's room. She placed an ear to the door and listened. Suddenly there was a heavy crash against the door. The thundering crash sounded in her ear and she pushed backward. She stepped on the hem of the dress and crashed down on the floor. It was that same time that Erik came flying out of his room. It would have been a all glory sight. His eyes blazing, tall lean body walking with ease. Or it would have been. He apparently wasn't use to having to deal with a klutz that always fell. She hadn't had enough time to get up out of the way, when he tripped over her. He didn't fall, but it was enough to have him stumble. It didn't make him lose face, but it showed that he was indeed human.

He spun around and glared at Krystyn as she was picking herself off the ground. "What do you think you were doing?" he snarled. He was still angry and perplexed at what had happened.

"I heard something and was seeing what it was. It wasn't my fault that you came flying out of there like a bat out of hell," she huffed as she crossed her arms and tried to stared him down. It would have been easier it she hadn't shrunk and didn't look so childish.

"I would suggest that you leave me be for the time that you are here Mademoiselle." he said with deathly calmness.

"You know I would do just that, but this is a small house. You can hang up in the Opera House all you want, but you will still have to come back down here sooner or latter. And…you forget one little thing….It was my life that had been screwed up by your little angel. I didn't want to die, she did. And by doing so she threw me here!" Krystyn felt like hitting someone or something. Something she did hit. She threw her fist into the wall. The force was not much, but there was anger behind it and it was enough to have 'Christine's' delicate skin to break. The flesh over the knuckles broke and bleed.

Erik stood shocked for only a split second before he grabbed her hands. "Stop that! I will not having you scar Christine's skin!"

"Don't touch me!" Krystyn's anger got the best of her. She pulled her hands out of his hands and swung her fist into his jaw. She then flew to Christine's rooms.

Erik just stood there in shock. All the hitting and yelling, he knew it wasn't do to fear. In fact for some reason he knew that she wasn't scared of him. It showed in her eyes. The high sweet voice, the face, body, was Christine's. Everything was hers, but the eyes. Yes, they were still blue, but where they have been a light sky blue, these were darker, a deep navy. It was indeed a dramatic change. The eyes spoke of someone entirely. It was not Christine behind the eyes.

He looked down at his hands. He was wearing white gloves over his long fingers and on the glove of his left hand was blood. He felt it seeping though the thin cloth of the glove. He felt the warm stickiness of it on his cold hand.

Then without warning he began to cry.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Krystyn could heard Erik crying. She felt horrible, but knew even if she wanted to she could not go to him. But she'll make it up to him. She'll be nicer. Anyone of her few friends could say it was a hard fleet to have her be nice. Contrary to belief, though she was an outcast, slightly fat and wore glasses, it didn't mean that she was a jolly friendly person. It was the opposite. She could seem shy and withdrawn, but if roused out of her world, she came out mad and crazy like a rapid wolverine. It was her biting tongue that kept her alone.

Krystyn looked up from the bed where she had collapsed onto. The soft sobbing had finally stopped,. She sat up and looked at the tiny clock that was on the mantel. Already 6:oo. That meant that she must have fallen asleep at some point. She took a deep breath and stared to the door then stopped. Making 'friends' would probably be the last thing on his mind right now. She turned and sat back down on the bed. Closing her eyes in thought. She tried to remember all that she had read or seen about Erik. The Broadway show would be of no use. True it was 'Phantom', but it showed mostly the more romantic side of him. That sure wasn't this Erik. She heaved a big sigh as she thought harder. Soon though her head began to hurt. Having her head banged hard enough on a stone wall and knocked your self out, well, it probably did her head no good.

She turned her thoughts to all the 'Phantom's' and 'Eriks' she knew of. He was tall, very tall. And painfully thin. He wore a full mask. She then figured that he was ether the Leroux one or Susan Kay. It really didn't matter though. All that matter was that she try to be nicer and by her time until the real Christine decides to come back.

_What if she doesn't come back? What is she is in your life as you are in hers? What if she is dead and you are stuck here forever?"_

A nagging voice in her head taunted her. She snarled and stood up. She walked over to were there was a small old photograph of Christine. She snatched it up and glared at the beautiful girl even though she now sported the same face. "Stupid twit." she snarled. She dropped the gold frame back on the vanity. She began to dig around a bit more. All that she could find was just scarves and shawls and other useless things.

By the time the entire room was torn apart and put back together Krystyn was tired. She collapsed on the bed and stared at the tiny clock. Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Again she growled and sat up. She was going to die of boredom. Krystyn stood up and walked to the door. Cracking it open she poked her head out. There was no one in sight. The sitting room was empty, void of life, though there was a fire in the fireplace. She stepped out and listened. Again no sound other then the crackle of the fire. It was creepy and had a unreal feel to it. She walked out and avoiding Erik's room, she made her way to a door that was on the other end of the sitting room. Pushing on the door, she found the kitchen. She wrinkled her nose at the room. A rumble in her belly told her that it had been a while since she and Christine's body had eaten. She opened a small sack that was in the corner. Inside was small green apples. She grabbed two and quickly ate them, knowing her belly was going to be tied up in knots.

After she finished the sour apples she returned to the sitting room and looked around. Finally after poking into everything that she could she sat down on a plush couch. She pulled her feet up and stared into the fire. She didn't know how long she stared into the fire but if must have been quiet awhile, for when she finally did she had the felling that she was being watched. And by someone that wasn't too happy with her.

**A little short but for some odd reason though I don't have writers block, I just can't get in the mood to write. I'll have to get my lazy bones to work, I guess. **


End file.
